


He Does Have Nice Hands

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: ASL, First Kiss, Hard of Hearing Bitty, Hard of hearing Bittle, Hoh Bitty, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Tutoring, ooooooooo boy, sorta vaguely depressing but?? its all good man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:25:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4058254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>YES! THE FIC YOU NEVER ASKED FOR! BUT NOW NEED! Hard of Hearing Bittle is back in business. Jack finds interest in asl. Eric helps him a bit and basically uses their tutoring time to hold his hands and be close. caus, you know, Bittle has nice hands and all. oh Lord in Heaven its adorable. Also: Jack has a small surprise that Eric maybe (probably) cries about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I just want to say, first off, I am 100% verbal. I do not sign other than the basics of the basics. I tried my best with accurate depictions of the signs, but they will not be correct. Please, if you see something inaccurate, tell me! Also, note that all depictions of being d/Deaf/HoH come from my perspective, I am mildly-moderately hard of hearing and wear aids with in ear receivers (basically: I don't have ear molds). 
> 
> Other than that, I hope this can be accurate for all my other d/Deaf/HoH Check, Please fans!  
> this bad boy of a fic will probably be about 3-4 chapters, which I estimate completion by the end of the month.  
> (also shout out to @wordsandjank for helping me brew up some ideas!)

                “And, see, you have to make the ‘wh’ face for this sign-yeah! Like that!” Bitty smiled proudly at Holster and Ransom as asked each other if they played hockey in ASL.

                “Dude, Bitty, that’s ‘swawesome! Can you show me how to flirt?” Holster laughed. Bitty rolled his eyes and puckered his lips to show the signs for “kiss me”. Ransom high fived Hoslter once they felt they could go and get all the Deaf babes.

                Bitty’s heart swelled up with joy, there was just something so nice about teaching signs to his friends that he could not understand. Maybe it was the satisfaction of people being excited about something he was passionate about, and maybe because it gave an excuse cracks jokes and hang out. Either way, he loved it.

                He especially loved it when Jack said, from the nasty green couch, “Hey, we could use some shorthand on the ice, or something.”

                “That would be sweet.” Ransom said, “Also, Jack _, I think your face is beautiful_.” Holster laughed along with his friend.

                “I don’t really know much hockey terms, though, I could ask about that. We’d have to get the whole entire team on it-and I don’t want to ruin our plays, or anything…” Bitty fumbled with his hands as he spoke from a blue lawn chair.

                “It was just an idea, don’t worry about it.” Jack said, brushing it off.

                “I still want to learn more signs for hockey stuff, though. I’ll keep you posted.” Bitty smiled at his friends. “Yeah, that’ll be fun!”

                He was so excited, more than he could ever remember being before.

…

                Bitty was so tired, more than he could ever remember being before.

               It had been pleasant and rainy day, Bittle had been reading comics set in the waiting room for the younger patients. The small office, a specialized off campus medical facility for the nearby hospital, was empty except for Eric and the secretary, who was clicking away at her keyboard. Behind him, a small window showed the pouring rain outside, just beginning to start a big storm.

                Shitty had dropped him off, as Bittle did not have a car of his own, and he hoped the storm wouldn’t get to bad, or else he would have to wait in the audiologist’s until commuter traffic and water mostly let up.

                After an incredibly boring hearing test, the kind that takes years to complete, Bitty was called into his doctor’s office to review the results. He plugged back in his mint green and sticker-encased hearing aids, with the cute red and white moulds, and entered the confining, windowless, room. This was his first time at an audiologist in his new home, although he had been living there for almost two years. And nothing the woman said made him want to come back.

                “You doing alright, Bits?” Shitty asked as Eric threw himself into the passenger’s seat of the old station wagon.

                “Yeah.” He sighed, “There’s nothing I can do. Can we go home now?” His blonde eyebrows furrowed as he looked into the onslaught of the ever brewing storm.

                “That bad, huh?” Shitty said, the car rumbling off onto the freeway.

                Bitty shrugged, “I guess, 10 whole decibels is a lot. 10. Whole. Decibels. If you lost 10 decibels you’d be down, Shitty.”

                “Suppose so,” He whistled as a big red truck cut them off, “What does that mean for you, though?”

                Bitty looked at Shitty. He was inexplicably nice for such a… trucker looking guy. “Well, I’ve noticed that it’s been especially hard to talk on the phone-I really can’t call my mom anymore. This paper just proves it.” He shook the slip out so he could look at the two black lines on the decibel chart. “Shitty, can I ask you something?”

                “Shoot,”

                “Am I loud? I feel like I’m talking normal, but, it’s hard to tell.” He said, as they pulled off of the big road.

                “Yeah, you’re pretty loud. It’s not a problem though-there are some fucking screamers all over campus.” He shrugged, “Hey, rather know what shit you’re talking about than mumbling all the time.”

                Bitty shook his head and smiled, “Thanks, I needed that.”

                “Sure, you lil’ fucker,” Shitty laughed. Samwell was in sight.

                Bittle said goodbye and hopped out of the car, running fast into the house. Shitty had a dinner date with Lardo to get to, and although happy to help with his favorite gay baby, was eager to speed down the road to the nearby diner. He waved to Ransom and Holster, who were on the couch in the front room, writing essays in furious pursuit. He tucked his hearing chart in a drawer on his desk and stowed away in the kitchen to make a nice, relaxing, stress pie.

                The apples were not as fresh and local as he had wanted, but Bittle knew that was his fault for wanting a good old fashioned apple pie in May. But he wanted one, bad, he had read the recipe so many times it was engrained in his head. As he tossed cinnamon and nutmeg in a small bowl, adding the sugar, and sprinkling salt in, he hummed softly. Of course he had left his blue tooth necklace back in Georgia over winter break, and was unable to listen to music straight through his hearing aids. He combined the dry mixture with the apples and lemon juice and mixed with a wide wooden spoon.

                Out of nowhere, a cold hand tapped Eric on the shoulder. He yelped, the spoon flying across the room, “Shit-Jack! Say something when you enter!”

                “Sorry, I said hi.” Jack apologized, backing away.

                “Yeah. Yeah, my fault.” Bitty swiped the spoon off of the floor and went to wash it off, “Anyways, what can I do for ya? Pie is going to remain inedible for another forty-five minutes, I’m afraid.”

                “It’s fine, I’m not hungry. But is this yours?” Jack held out the small silver tube on the black necklace. Bitty’s Bluetooth necklace.

                “How did you-how did you find this? I thought I left it over break.” He dried off the spoon with a rag by the sink.

                “It was under the washing machine. We got a new one today.” Jack placed the silver rod in Bitty’s dried hands, dangling it by the string. The look of joy on his face broke the frustrated feeling in his chest.

                “Thank you, oh my Lord, thank you!” He clutched it, then slid it in his pocket, “I was in such a fussy mood earlier, music just makes anything better, right?”

                “That plays music?” Jack asked, leaning against the wall.

                “Yeah, it’s a Bluetooth. I actually just got it for Christmas. I don’t know what I would have told Mama if I had already misplaced it. I’m sure it’s worth both of my legs and an arm.” Eric frowned momentarily, before dusting his hands and the counter with flour.

                “For your hearing aids?” he said.

                “Yep, for my hearing aids.” He began the lattice top for the apple pie, weaving over and under. It was therapeutic to say the least.

                “What’s it like? To be deaf?” Jack walked over to where Bitty was folding dough so he’d be more in line with his ears.

                “What’s it like to hear?” Bitty shrugged, “I dunno, for me, I guess it’s a bit like standing outside a really wild concert? Where you can feel what’s happening and you know everyone’s screaming their heads off, but you can’t make out words or melodies. It’s not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong, but it’s different, I suppose.” He gave a short laugh, “Also, if someone’s making a stupid joke, like ‘what are you, deaf?’” He mocked, “I’ll just stare them square in the eyes, pull out my hearing aids, and say, ‘why yes, I am’. Now, I’m not one to laugh at distress, but the look of horror gets me every time.”

                Jack opened the oven for him as Bitty popped in the gorgeous pie. He clapped his hands to rid himself of flour and began to file away the ingredients. “But in all honesty, it’s confusing as hell. On one hand, you’ve been raising talking your whole life. Especially since I haven’t always been this deaf. But on the other hand,” He turned around, “I’ve got to decide how to get jobs that don’t require a phone, are mostly about visuals, and making sure I get front row seats in all my classes.”

                “What about that baking class we’re taking?” Jack asked.

                “I have you,” Eric set a glass bowl into the sink and tapped the faucet on. “Plus, it’s baking.”

                “Hey, Bittle.” Jack began, thrusting his hands into the pockets on his sweatshirt, “I want to learn sign language. So we can… I guess talk better.”

                Bitty turned around and smiled, one hand on his hip and the other on the counter. The storm outside had started to break, and shafts of light, pure and bright, hit the land with sun. A particularly large part in the clouds dawned over their street, and lit up the Haus. Bittle was standing before the window, his silhouette framed by holy golden light. “Jack! I am surprised! I mean, other’s had asked just this and that of me, but, to actually _learn_ ASL is different.”

                Jack gave a small smile as Bittle began talking about how he’d need an actual tutor to help him, not just a student, and what books he’d want, along with movies they could watch, even a play! It was amazing how excited the topic got him, amazing how happy and beautiful he looked in the afternoon light.

                Eric was feeling much better.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tutoring. Begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man oh man it begins. The first tutoring session. sorry this is so short, its more of a build up to whats to come, you know, lay out the maps, then you can start the battle. Anyways, hope you like it! Thank you so much for all the positive feedback you guys have been giving me. :'^)

Chapter 2

                Bitty flipped the last page in his book and sighed. Sunday mornings were a nice and calm time for him. He finally had gotten the chance to finish his assignment for _American Literature_ , and was feeling quite pleased with the ending. The long white curtains swished gently in the breeze as occasional whirrs of engines sounded down the street.

                He trotted upstairs and into the laundry room. From the window nestled between cupboards smelling strongly of fabric softener, he noticed that spring had just begun to dawn on the city. The work Bitty had convinced Shitty to help him with in a new, small garden in the backyard, was paying off. Little marigolds were budding; the growing stocks of sunflowers were warming themselves in the pocket of sun. By June, the yellow giants would be ready to be shaken loose of their seeds, but for now, they were pretty sights to behold.

                It was not until Jack was all the way upstairs that Bitty heard the doors creaking open. “Hey, Bittle.”

                “Good morning!”He smiled, shutting the hatch on the washing machine and clicking the cycle on.

                “Would you, um, still be okay with tutoring me?” Jack looked down.

                “I’m sorry?” Eric asked, leaning against the rumbling metal box.

                “I found a Deaf teacher, but I was wondering if we could practice?” He said, a bit clearer. He moved out of the way for Bittle, who exited the room into the hallway.

                “I’d love to, Jack, let me grab some stuff first. Oh my gosh, okay, just wait for me in the front room!” Bitty smiled and rushed off to his own bedroom.

                It had been about three weeks since Jack proposed that he should learn sign language. Of course, Bitty was excited out of his mind, but had not pushed any further on the subject. Although some part of him knew Jack would stick with what he had said, another part had been nagging at him, telling him he was stupid to even believe someone would _consider_ learning ASL for him. The narcissistic side was wallowing in the shadows of his mind now, far out of reach.

                “Okay, young pupil, what have you learned so far?” Eric said, plopping down on the floor next to the coffee table, setting several books on the table.

                “Well, I can sign my name?” He said, not confident in his words.

                “Good! That’s an amazing start. You know how to say ‘my name is’?” He spelled out the motions, a fist on your chest, then tapping two ‘h’ signs together, _‘My-name-Eric’_.

                “Isn’t that missing ‘is’?” Jack asked.

                “Yep, there is no such thing as ‘is’ in ASL.” Bittle beamed, proudly. “Has your teacher given you an assignment?”

                “Yeah, here, “Jack pulled a workbook out of the backpack next to him. “It’s just a few basic things.” He handed over the book.

                “Can you sign, _‘I am a student_ ’?” Bitty asked, flipping through the first few pages.

                Jack grimaced. He stumbled over _student_. Bittle showed him once, and he copied, not very well, but enough that it was understandable. _‘I am a student. Are you?_ ’ He asked, finally.

                _‘Yes, I go to Samwel_ _University_.’ Bity responded, “For school, you just lightly clap your hands, for university, you wave your dominate hand in a circle. See?” He repeated his sentence.

                _‘I go to Samwel University_ ,’ Jack copied, his finger spelling rigid.

                “Wow, good job!” Bitty grinned. “I also have a few other dictionary-esque books you can use.” He nodded to the stack. _English to ASL, Basic Phrases and Terms in American Sign Language, History of American Deaf_ , and others sat before him.

                “Thanks.” Jack said, pulling the _History_ off and plucking through, “Am I… am I the first person that’s asked you for help?”

                “Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess.” Bitty looked up, “Yeah, you are.”

                A mental note seemed to have been added to his mind. Even Bitty’s mom, who seemed so bubbly and friendly, still held some deep prejudice, or something. Whatever it was, it was strangely eye opening, like a small window had been cracked open into a part of Bittle’s life that maybe he did not even know so much about.

                “When’s your next lesson?” Bitty asked after a long pause.

                “Tomorrow at 5.” Jack responded, still looking at the faces of old leaders in Deaf studies. An older woman smiled at the photographer, odd for such an old picture.

                “Then the day after we should study again.”

                “Sounds good. Thanks for your help.” Jack said, now looking up.

                Bitty smiled, but shook his head, “Are you kidding? Thanks for even wanting to learn sign language!” He practically jumped on jack with a hug.

                “Of course.” Jack mumbled as Bitty climbed off, “It’s important.”

               That night, all wrapped in comforters and flannel quilts in his bed, Bittle smiled. Jack cared. Even if he had some sort of utilitarian purpose that he gave an answer as to why he would learn a new language for a teammate, the impact that this gesture gave to Bitty’s chest was beyond imagination. Feeling loved, he fell asleep quickly, rain just beginning to drizzle on the town, dull lights flickering in the distance.


End file.
